


After Buon San Valentino

by Vikingfangirl23



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Chaptered, France being France, Germany, Germany is Holy Roman Empire, HRE is Germany, Happy Ending, Identity Issues, Italy, Love, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Non-Canon Relationship, Romance, Same-Sex Marriage, Sappy Ending, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-03 15:16:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4105603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vikingfangirl23/pseuds/Vikingfangirl23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the disaster that was Buon San Valentino, Germany flees to Austria's house in shame. Italy gathers a band of countries to search for him with…interesting degrees of success. Meanwhile in hiding, Germany starts to have dreams and visions of a girl in a little green dress. Bad summary is bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Italy ran out into the street, sobbing. Germany was gone, maybe for good, and the little nation was all alone outside the restaurant, bewildered and lost. With nothing else to do and nowhere to go, Italy chose a direction and started walking.

Nothing made sense. Did Germany like Italy like that? Did he like him at all? Did he hate him? Why had he proposed? What had happened to him at the end? Where was Germany now? Where was Italy now? He realized he had no idea where he was. All of the buildings looked similar, dusted with February snow. The more Italy looked, the more familiar the neighborhood seemed, until he recognized that he was near Germany and Prussia’s house.

Italy wiped his tears away and headed for the house. Before he had any idea of what to say or do once he got there, he was on the porch ringing the bell, white flag at the ready. The door swung open.

“Whatever business you have with The Awesome Prussia, it’ll have to wait until tomorrow. I’ve got a killer hangover.” Prussia grumbled, wearing pink pajamas and bunny slippers.

“You have a hangover at 9:00 PM?” Italy asked, momentarily forgetting why he was there. “I mean, is Germany here?”

“No, he left a while ago, all dressed up. Why? Did something happen?”

“Yes, it was awful,” Italy said, and started to cry all over again, still standing on the porch. He poured out the whole story as a plan started to form in Prussia’s mind. Yes, it was mean, but Italy, he decided, was worth it.

“You know, West did mention once that you had to be taken care of to much. He complained about how annoying and useless you were a few times, but I’m sure he didn’t mean it. He probably thought it would be fun to trick you...” He trailed off, pretending to be lost in thought. “You know, I bet it was a joke. I’d take you out for Valentine’s Day, for real. It would be awesome!” 

Prussia watched with satisfaction as Italy’s face fell. Now all he had to do was ask Italy out and they could be together forever and everything would be awesome... “He doesn’t really like me?”

“No, but I do! And I’m way awesomer than him, anyway.” Prussia winked, but the distraught Italy didn’t notice.

“I...I have to...” Italy stammered, then ran off of the porch. Prussia called after him, but Italy didn’t notice. He had to get to his own house, where Romano could help him sort the whole mess out.

\---------------

Italy hugged himself, cold after the long run from Germany’s house to his own. He rang the doorbell, and to his surprise, Romano opened the door immediately, wearing...a suit?

“Ciao, Spain! Wait a second, Italy? What the fuck are you doing here?” Romano said, pulling his brother inside. Italy sat on the couch and poured out the whole story again, from buying roses for Germany to Prussia’s explanation.

“That fucking potato bastard.” Romano muttered.

“Which one?” Italy asked, sniffing.

“Prussia! He’s had a crush on you forever! That bastard probably told you Germany didn’t like you so he could have a chance with you.” he explained.

“Wait...so Germany really does like me?” Ital asked hopefully.

“You’d have to be as idiotic as...well, you, not to see it. Come on, let’s go fucking find Germany.” Romano got to his feet.

“But I thought you hated him!” Italy said.

“I can’t hate anyone you love, idiota,” Romano opened the door, revealing Spain, als in a suit and holding a single sunflower. “Oh, Spain, you’re supposed to get roses for Valentine’s Day, not sunflowers. Idiota. You can come with us, jerk. The date’s off, we’re trying to find Germany.” 

“Que?” Spain asked, utterly confused.

“I’ll take that,” Romano said, sliding the sunflower out of Spain’s hands and leading the way to his car. The three nations drove out into the night, starting the greatest search in the history of the nations.

\--------------------

Germany stood shaking on the doorstep of Austria’s house. The images - memories - kept coming back, faster and faster. A little girl in a green dress, a big house, a much younger looking Austria...There was nowhere else to go. He couldn’t even go home. There was no one else to trust. He couldn’t even trust himself.

The door opened, and Germany spilled everything. Austria put his head in his hands. “I knew this would happen. I knew, I knew something would happen and the whole thing would fall apart...”

“What would fall apart?” Germany asked. Austria just shook his head. A memory of talking to the girl in the green dress floated through his mind. She called him Holy Roman Empire. Holy Roman Empire. Realization dawned on Germany, or whoever he was. “Austria, who am I?”


	2. Chapter 2

Austria peeked out the window. A huge group had gathered on his porch: America, Japan, Spain, both Italys, and that other guy...what was his name? Canada! Yeah, him, he was there too. He knew they were looking for Germany, and knew that he was crying in the next room over. He was in no condition to meet a pack of visitors, especially Italy. If Germany was found, Italy would have to learn what had actually happened to HRE, and Austria didn’t want to be around when that happened. The musician set his jaw. His decision made, he opened the door.

“Um, hi. Is Germany here? I need to say something very important to him.” Italy asked with those big golden eyes. Austria almost gave in and told the truth, but he got a hold of himself.

“No, Italy. I’m sorry.” He closed the door before he could change his mind. He watched from his window as Romano led his brother, in tears, away from the house.

“Why did you do that?” Hungary said from behind him. “Why would you lie to him?” Austria turned, right into his wife’s frying pan.

“This shitty dump is England’s house?” Romano said, staring up at the shabby London apartment building.

“Si. Well, only for a week or so. He always gets depressed around Valentine’s Day.” Spain explained. “We should head inside.”

“This is, like, totally disgusting.” Poland said, sniffing delicately. He lifted the hem of his dress above the moldy carpet of the lobby. “Oh, great! Of course he has to live on the tenth floor! Now we’ll have to take the elevator. That thing is like, totally unsafe.”

“No one asked you along,” Romano grumbled. When the crew ran into Poland at the mall down the street from England’s house, he had invited himself to join their search, and so far had done nothing but complain and annoy Romano.

Two by two, the nations rode the tiny, creaky elevator up to the top floor, where England was renting a one-bedroom flat. They gathered outside his door, not entering yet. Finally, only Romano and Poland were left. The little box went up to the top floor, shuddered, and simply stopped without opening the doors.

“Fuck,” Romano said, pressing the door open button over and over. “Spain! Spain, help! Get me the hell out of here!” His voice grew more and more hysterical.

“This is like totally bad! What if my phone battery runs out before we’re rescued?” Poland was starting to panic too.

“Romano, can you hear me?” Spain yelled.

“Yes! Now fucking do something!” Romano shouted back. Spain turned to the group.

“I have to find Germany,” Italy said before anyone else could speak. He showed a rare determination. “We have to get to him.” 

“We will. I have an idea. Let’s split up. Some of us will keep searching, some of us will stay with Romano and Poland and get a mechanic.” Japan said, speaking for the first time.

“Yes! I’ll stay with mi tomate!” Spain said. He got a few raised eyebrows at the tomato comment. “America, you can stay with me, and Italy and Japan can keep going!”

“And me,” said Canada.

Spain blinked, confused. “Oh, right. You too.”

Japan, Canada, and Italy braced themselves, then walked into England’s apartment in search of Germany.

\--------------------------

“I never got why England’s here,” America said.

“He’s, um, feeling a little under the weather. Always does, this time of year.” Spain said, pacing anxiously. “Can you run down to the lobby to see if there’s someone down there who can help?”

“But why this time of year?” America ignored Spain’s request. “It’s Valentine’s Day! He should be celebrating love, right?”

“Um, actually...” Spain started. It seemed like America genuinely had no idea how in love with him England was. “He’s still a tad bit upset over that whole revolutionary war business. I think he misses you.”

“What? But that was centuries ago! Wait, he misses me?” America exclaimed.

“It still hurts him quite a bit to be reminded that you’re not with-”

“I’ll save him! I’m the hero!” America yelled, charging past the other nations as they were leaving England’s apartment. 

“What’s he doing?” Japan asked. 

“Saving England, or so he thinks,” Spain answered.

“Ve~ Good luck with that. We’re heading to France’s place next. See you!” Italy called, starting down the ten flights of stairs.

“Wait! Will you call the mechanic? I can’t leave Romano here!” Spain yelled after them, but it was too late. He was alone.

Part 7

“Ow! What on earth was that for?” Austria yelled indignantly, staggering from the force of the blow. 

“That was for lying to the boy you raised as your own son, possibly destroying his second chance with the man he loves!” she yelled back, red in the face. “You heard him! He wants to make amends with Germany!”

“You mean the Holy Roman Empire?” Austria shot back. “What would he do if he knew Holy Rome was alive? I did it to protect him!”

“He’s strong! He deserves to know! You never cared about him, only the amount of chores he could do for you.” Hungary raised her frying pan, and her husband shrank back.

“Let me express my displeasure through the piano,” he said, holding his hands out in a placating gesture.

“No.”

“No?”

“No. I’m going to find Italy and tell him the truth and you can go express anything you like on that stupid piano because you obviously love it more than you do Italy.” She whacked Austria with the frying pan one more time for good measure and left the house.

\-----------------

Germany had been in the room for hours, he thought. It felt like weeks, but the sky hadn’t changed. It was still dark. Austria had left him after telling him everything. Hungary stuck her head in occasionally. He got the sense that they had no idea what to do. Neither did he. What were you supposed to do when you suddenly learned that you had a whole other past? France must have known, and Prussia, and Austria and Hungary, of course. Who else had known all along? What else didn’t he know?

Germany put his head down and groaned as the memory of a beautiful blue sky and the girl in the green dress, crying, washed over him. It was harder to grasp than many of the other memories, and made him sad for some reason. The girl was crying. She was saying goodbye. She kissed him.

And then he called her Italy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave kudos/reviews. The next chapter will (hopefully) go up this weekend.


	3. Chapter 3

Poland rearranged his skirts for the fifth time as he sat on the floor of the elevator, listening to his own Marukaite Chikyuu. “You should, like, take a chill pill. We’ll be fine.” Romano kept pacing as best as he could in his four feet of space and shot the other nation a venomous glare.

A few minutes later, Poland tried to make conversation again. “You and Spain are, like, made for each other. You should totes ask him out.” That pushed Romano over the edge.

“I don’t fucking like that bastard! He’s just a stupid guy who’s way too good for me anyway.” If Poland found out that Spain and Romano had had a date planned for that night, Romano would never hear the end of it.

Poland giggled. “See, you think he’s amazing. It’s adorable.”

“I am no longer talking to you, bastard.” Romano said, and paced even faster.

“Suit yourself,” Poland said, and sent another text to Lithuania.

\-------------------------

“Um...England?” America knocked tentatively on his friend’s bedroom door. He could claim he was the hero and run to save the world in front of Spain, but after seeing the state of the living room, he was scared to go any farther. “England, it’s America.” There was no answer, so he gently turned the doorknob.

“Oh, England, what happened to you?” he cried. Far too many empty bottles littered the room, and England was buried under a pile of blankets. America rushed to his side, pushing back the covers to see his friend’s face.

“Leave me alone, Italy, I don’t know where Germany is,” he said, then opened his eyes and focused on America’s face. “Bloody hallucinations again. Go away, I know you’re not real.” He batted lazily at America’s hands.

“England, I’m here. I’m so sorry.” America whispered, sounding nothing like the bold hero he usually was.

“I am bloody fed up with thinking you’d ever love me. I’m bloody fed up with loving you.” England squeezed his eyes shut.

“You love me?” America shouted, not noticing England’s wince at the noise. “I love you too!” He leaned down and kissed the other nation on the lips. England’s emerald eyes shot open.

“You’re real,” he said.

“Yes, I’m real, and I love you, and I am never going to leave you again.” America said, and he meant it.  
\--------------------  
Poland: Wow, it’s almost midnight.

Liet: Oh, yeah. I might have to stop texting soon.

Poland: Why?

Poland: Liiieeet, why?

Liet: No reason. Just getting late.

Poland: It’s Russia, isn’t it? He’ll be home soon?

Liet: If he finds out I have a phone...

Poland: I know.

Liet: I’m sorry.

Poland: You have nothing to be sorry for.

“Fine! I like Spain!” Romano blurted. Poland looked up from his texts.

“Well, that was abrupt,” he said. “I thought you, like, weren’t talking to me.”

“That was before I spent four fucking hours not doing anything in a tiny, smelly, stuck elevator. What the fuck is taking Spain so long?”

Poland giggled. “Yes, you’d think he’d, like, run as fast as he can to save his ‘little tomato’.” Romano glared. Poland ignored him. “You should tell Spain you like him. People do anything for the people they care about.”

“Then why haven’t you fucking saved Lithuania already?” Romano challenged, crossing his arms.

“Why haven’t you told Spain you like him already? Same reason. We’re, like, scared. Let’s make a deal: When we, like, get out of here, you’ll tell Spain you like him, and I’ll, like, totally save Liet.” Poland said. 

Romano knelt down next to him and put out his hand. “Deal.” Poland smiled and checked his phone.

Liet: I heard him come in. He’s here. He’s in a bad mood. I can hear him.

Liet: The noises are getting worse.

Liet: GET ME OUT OF HERE

Poland: It’s okay. I’m gonna bust you out of there for good as soon as I can.

Liet: It got quiet. I’m gonna go check it out.

Poland: Okay.

Poland: Liet?

Poland: Are you there? Are you okay?

Poland: Liet, answer your phone. Please please please answer.

“Something happened! Liet’s in trouble!” Poland jumped to his feet.. Before Romano could answer, the doors slid open at last, revealing a mechanic, Spain, England, and America.

“I’m coming, Liet!” Poland yelled, and sprinted past them down the stairs. Romano grabbed Spain, kissed him, and ran after his new friend to save Lithuania.

“....Que?” Spain said, swaying slightly. “Romano?”

\--------------------------

“Is this really a good idea? You know how crazy France can get.” Canada asked Japan and Italy, who stood next to him on the sidewalk. France’s door loomed in the center of Paris.

“Who’re you?” Italy asked.

“I’m Canada.”

“Oh, right. Yeah, if Germany wanted to talk about love he’d come to France. I bet he’s here.” Japan and Canada exchanged a look. They were sure Germany wasn’t inside, but a hopeless Italy was not something anyone wanted to see. Japan rang the doorbell, and the door opened.

“Bonjour, mon cher Italie! What brings you here?” France giggled and pulled his visitors inside, downing a glass of red wine. Judging by the look in his eyes, it was not his first drink that night.

“Ciao, France. We were wondering if Germany has come to see you. He’s missing.” Italy explained.

France flopped down on his couch, sipping from a glass containing a different type of wine. “And, of course, you are searching for him. How romantique! He’s loved you since the 900s, you know.”

“The 900s? But I didn’t know Germany back then.” Italy sat down, confused.

“Now, this is all very hush-hush, very secret, but the Holy Roman Empire is Germany! But, you see, you can’t tell anyone, especially not Italy. Oh, wait...” France trailed off, realizing his mistake. Before Italy could react, Hungary burst through the front door.

“Holy Rome is alive? Germany is Holy Rome? Hungary, we have to find him!” Italy cried, rushing to her.

“Yes, Italy. He’s okay, and at Austria’s house. He lied. We’ve both lied to you so much and I’m so sorry.” Hungary said, Italy already pulling her towards Austria’s house.

“Um...should we go too?” Japan asked Canada.

“I guess so. ‘Bye, France.” he answered as France snored on the couch, wine spilled over his silk suit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, everyone! The next chapter will probably go up in two days. Please give kudos/comment and keep loving GerIta.


	4. Chapter 4

Italy.

The green dress. The push broom. Germany had been in love with Italy before. And when he’d said that he’d had a first love, but it had been another boy? That was Germany. He was talking about me. Germany told himself. I was in love with Italy. He was sure, however, that Italy didn’t love him anymore. Hungary had come in and told him that the book he’d been using for dating advice was from the humor section. Who could love someone who made blunders like that? Yes, it was all a misunderstanding. Italy doesn’t love me. Germany rationalized.

But what if I still love him?  
\-----------------------

When Austria saw Italy, Japan, Canada, and *gulp* Hungary on his doorstep again, he knew what had happened. He was all ready to apologize and beg for forgiveness, but Italy didn’t want to hear it. He was so, so determined to get to Germany that Austria just let him go...They were up there now. The rest of the nations sat awkwardly in the living room, wondering what was happening and hoping against all hope that Germany and Italy would be okay.

\----------------------  
Italy’s eyes immediately found Germany in the dark room. He had his back to Italy, staring out a window at the night sky. Italy looked back at the door where he’d come in, but Austria was gone. He had to face this alone.

“G-Germany?” he said. Germany spun around, shocked, and they both began talking at once.

“I’m so sorry, Italy, it was all a misunderstanding...”

“You just took me by surprise is all...”

“...just read your signals wrong, it’s all my fault...”

“I would have said yes, it was just a huge surprise...”

“I know you don’t love me,” Germany finally broke through.

“But I do,” Italy pleaded.

“You do?”

“Oh, Germany, of course I do. I’ve loved you for centuries, waited for centuries, and even before I knew who you used to be, I fell in love all over again.” Italy said, starting to cry.

“So they told you?” Germany said, walking to meet his friend halfway across the room. “We both just found out today, then. Or yesterday, it’s nearly two in the morning.” He hugged Italy, enveloping the other nation in warmth. “Can I...Can I try the proposal again?” Italy managed to nod, sobbing harder. Germany let him go and knelt, pulling the tomato ring from his pocket.

“Italy Veneziano,” he said. “Will you marry me?”

Italy nodded again, then started to laugh as he cried. He pulled his fiance to his feet and wiped his face. Then he threw his arms around Germany and kissed him, finally.  
\-------------------  
It was snowing. There was already about an inch on the ground, and big, fat flakes were drifting down on the two nations outside of Russia’s huge house.

“There is no way we’re getting in there, much less out alive.” Romano said, staring up at the mansion. “You’re fucking crazy.” 

“Crazy in love,” Poland smiled faintly, retying one of his pigtails with a pink ribbon. “Don’t worry, I’ve done this, like, tons of times before. It’s easier than you’d think. Besides, I’ve like, got my end of the deal to hold up.” Romano blushed as red as a tomato, no doubt remembering his side of the deal. He’d never admit it, but that rushed, unexpected kiss with Spain had been the best moment of his life.

“Let’s go,” Poland said, striding confidently towards every nation’s (except for Belarus) worst nightmare.

“What the fuck are you doing? He’ll see you! You’ll get us all killed!” Romano hissed, trying to grab Poland’s arm. “Seriously, you crazy bastard, stop!” Poland was surprisingly strong, and ripped his arm away. He made it to the house without incident, Romano close on his heels, and fitted a fingertip onto a ledge caused by the uneven brick and hauled himself, pink dress and all, a foot at a time up the wall. Romano stepped back, watching in awe as Poland reached the top and clambered in a glassless window. He stuck his head out and waved cheekily.

“Your turn, Romano!” Poland called softly.

“No fucking way,” Romano said, crossing his arms. “I’m staying here. There is no way I’m climbing up a wall where you could fall at any minute and die...”

“Are you, like, scared of heights?” Poland said, tilting his head to the side.

“No! Of course not, you stupid shit! Why would you think that? I love heights. I was practically born in the air or something...” Romano spluttered, tomato red again.

“Don’t worry. You’re secret’s safe with me. I’ll get them out as fast as I can!” Poland said, and pulled back into the room. It was dark, lit only by the open window, which had allowed bits of snow and gusts of freezing wind in. “Liet?”

A huddle of blankets in the corner moved slightly, then separated into three frightened, cold nations. “Poland?” Lithuania said, wobbling to his feet.

“Liet! I thought you were gone when you stopped texting!” Poland rushed over and hugged his boyfriend as hard as he could. 

“My phone died. Sorry.” Lithuania gasped, unable to breathe with Poland squeezing him.

“It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay. I’m getting you out of here forever and ever. Where’s Russia?” Poland let Lithuania go and helped the other Baltics up. 

“He passed out after drinking his entire supply of vodka,” Lithuania replied. “We should have enough time to escape.”

“Good. Romano’s outside. Go, go.” Poland pushed Estonia and Latvia to the window, where they slowly but surely climbed down to where Romano was waiting. Finally, only Poland was left in the room as Lithuania climbed onto the windowsill and froze, terrified, staring at something over Poland’s shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” Poland asked Lithuania, then turned to face Russia, metal pipe in hand, violet eyes blazing.

“Run, Liet! I’ll hold him off!” Poland yelled, throwing himself between Russia and the window. Russia, smiling madly, raised his pipe.

“Stop, Russia! Stop, hold on! I’ll give you sunflowers!” Lithuania called out. The huge nation stopped in his tracks. “We’re going someplace warm, with hot sun and blue skies and fields and fields of sunflowers...” Lithuania kept talking, just describing the beautiful places they could go, and to Poland’s amazement, it seemed to be working. Russia lowered the pipe, and a sliver of sanity returned to his eyes.

“Where? I can’t see the sunflowers. Are they real? Are you lying to me?” In an instant, Russia was angry again, looming over the two terrified nations. Suddenly, a hand appeared on the window ledge. Then a face peeked in, and Romano tumbled into the room.

“Here,” he said, gasping and pale from the climb. He held out the sunflower Spain had given him for their date. “You can fucking have it. Just leave my friends alone.”

Russia took the sunflower almost reverently and sank to the floor, staring at it. “Let’s go,” Romano whispered, and they climbed down as fast as they could. All five countries ran through the night as fast as they could towards Italy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I do not have anything against Russia, inside or outside of Hetalia. It just fit the story for him to be the closest thing there is to a villian, and I don't mean to offend anyone.
> 
> I do not own Hetalia.
> 
> Thanks for reading through all of my sappiness. The next and last chapter will be out by the 20th. Please leave kudos/comments!


	5. Chapter 5

“Romano! I was so worried for you that I spilled the pasta and then Germany had to help me clean it up but I didn’t mind because now he’s my fiance! We’re so happy together and I’m sure Spain will be glad to see that y-”

“That’s nice, fratello. Now do me a favor and shut the fuck up.” Romano said, pushing past Italy. It was nearly four o’clock in the morning but the party was in full swing. He noticed Austria and Hungary sitting together, their fight forgiven. Canada, Japan, England, America, and Prussia had come and even France, though drunk, had showed up. At the center of it all was the latest couple: Italy and Germany, or the Holy Roman Empire, reunited at last.

Romano saw everyone, but didn’t stop to say hello. There was only one person he wanted to see.

“Romano?” And there he was, still wearing his suit for what was supposed to be a romantic dinner but had turned into the search of the century. Spain made his way through the crowd to Romano, hugging him in front of everyone.

“Fuck off, bastard.” Romano mumbled, but didn’t push him away.

“Te amo, mi tomate,” Spain whispered in his ear. Romano could hear the smile in his voice.

“Ti amo,” he whispered back, and everything fell into place.  
\----------------------------  
“Hey, Romano!” a voice called from behind him. He spun around, turning away from the door. It was mid-morning, and many of the partygoers had left.

“What?” he snapped. Poland stood in front of him, grinning from ear to ear.  
“Friends, huh?”

“What?” Romano repeated.

“You called us friends when you, like, faced down Russia. And what was with that, anyway? Like, nobody talks to Russia like that, and you’re, like, supposed to be afraid of heights. How did you get up there?” Poland asked.

Romano shrugged. “I heard you guys yelling and figured you could use some help. Like you said, bastard, people do anything for those they care about.” He immediately blushed and wished he hadn’t said anything.

“Alright, friend. The Baltics and I are, like, going home. They’re staying with me for a while, and I heard China’s, like, totally helping Russia get back on his feet. See you, kk?” Poland said, winking. Romano didn’t answer until they were out the door.

“Okay, friend,” He smiled, and turned to his mess of a house. Right in the middle of it all was Spain, who stood up and took Romano’s hand. Cleaning can wait a while, he thought, and kissed Spain. This time it wasn’t rushed or hasty or impulsive. It was perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading and leaving kudos! And again, I'm sorry for all of the sappiness. It's all I know how to write :)  
> Thanks again! Virtual hugs!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This fic has 4 chapters and an epilogue. I will try to update every few days, but there are a million things that could go wrong (mostly because I'm terrible with computers and new to this site).  
> Dedicated to Maryam, for being a good friend and crazy Hetalian cat and, most of all, for forcing me to memorize the lyrics to Marukaite Chikyuu.  
> Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.


End file.
